The diner was, for the most part, empty. Afternoon rush had just ended, and an older woman in a blue dress and high heels stopped low over the tables as she cleaned them off for possible customers.

A radio played somewhere from in the kitchen between intervals of pots and dishes being smacked together in a sink. One plate must have fallen, considering the loud crash and an accusational "Greg!" that was followed by a few strings of insults.

"Keep it down back there!" the older woman called over her shoulder in a half threat. Getting up, she rolled her eyes and walked to the back corner of the diner where two boys sat in a booth from across one another.

"Can I get you boys anything yet?" she asked, scowling at the lack of money being spent.

The dark haired boy furthest back from the front of the restaurant looked up with an annoyed expression. "No thank you, Janice," he answered with a quick glance at the white name tag pinned to the waitress' dress.

The boy appeared to be no older than 20, and probably younger. He wore a blue flannel shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Resting on his forehead was a pair of goggles, although they didn't seem to be for swimming..

The man sitting across from him, also in his late teens or early twenties, looks up slowly from the menu that he had been idly scanning. He scratches unconsciously at a small scar on his right temple, and smiles warmly at the waitress, who returns his look with one of annoyance and impatience. His light green eyes, glaze over with distaste, and he scowls. He looks back down at the menu quickly, before closing it and handing it to her.

"I'll just have a cup of coffee, please. Black," he says stiffly.

Janice takes the menu and shirks off back to the kitchen, muttering under her breath to herself. Back at the table, the man turns to the mysterious person across from him, eying him warily.